


Parisian skies, shadows beneath your eyes - or on the subject of reunion after some weeks apart

by XVettes (JordStarrr)



Category: XV de France
Genre: D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JordStarrr/pseuds/XVettes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I do feel it's only fair to warn you - when it says explicit, it means explicit. I don't really know how this happened, but well... it did, and I just want to warn you, alright? Maybe best to brace yourself.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Parisian skies, shadows beneath your eyes - or on the subject of reunion after some weeks apart

**Author's Note:**

> I do feel it's only fair to warn you - when it says explicit, it means explicit. I don't really know how this happened, but well... it did, and I just want to warn you, alright? Maybe best to brace yourself.

  
"What's it been like here then, without me?" he whispers into Yoann's ear, the two of them sandwiched into that one tiny bed. For once it's Max sneaking into Yoann's bed in the middle of the night, while he was sleeping. It's freezing in their room, so cold they can see their breath lingering in the air around them, and it's late, very late, but Max has this itch that is just begging to be scratched. Right now. Right this second. It's taken him a few days to work up the courage for this, but now he has, he won't be able to sleep until it's done.   
  
   
  
"Did you miss me?" he murmurs, his voice rough and hoarse from a lack of sleep and a day spent running in the winter air. "Tell me. Did you miss me?"  
"Mmm?" Yoann sighs, still half-asleep, lazily reaching up to scratch Max's scalp where he likes it. "I missed you. I missed you a lot, Maxi..."   
  
   
  
"So much you deliberately went looking for Wesley  _and_  Vincent?"   
He begins moving his hand in slow, deliberate circles over Yoann's enviable stomach, every inch of him pressed again Yoann in the dark.  
When Yoann dares to speak, his voice is mousy, quiet, nothing like his usual self. "Max..."   
  
   
  
"Oh, I'm not angry, Yo. But you'll be making it up to me later, and don't you forget it. So tell me. How much did you miss me? What did you do, here, at night...without me..? Tell me."   
  
   
  
"I...I thought about you all the time, Maxi. All the time. It was so hard not to... you know..." he trails off.   
  
   
  
"Not to what?" Max smiles against Yoann's shoulder, hand inching very slowly down his belly. He sounds nervous. He doesn't feel very nervous. He feels the same way he always feels when Max does this; hard, bare, exposed. Breathless. Divine.  
  
"You look so much prettier now you're all smooth for me again," he whispers, his fingertips stroking the patch of soft skin where the stubble used to be.   
  
   
  
Yoann winces at the memory of the pain Max puts him through so relentlessly, but he laughs, and slowly but surely Max can hear the warmth returning to his voice. "To do this," he growls, sliding his hand over Max's and guiding it down just a little further until it's wrapped tightly around his cock and he sighs without meaning to. It's been a while since they did this.  
  
   
  
"But you did, didn't you? Even though I asked you - I told you -  not to. I know you, Yo."  
"I'm sorry, Maxi...I couldn't help myself. I missed you so much..." He tries to move Max's hand but Max refuses, biting down on his shoulder instead. He yelps, and he hears Max's laugh, that dark, bitter, delicious sound, low in his ear.   
"Shhh, Yo," Max hisses into his curls. "What did you think about? What did you do? Show me. I want you to show me." 

 

His grip tightens, and Yoann lets out half a moan, tightening his grip in turn, dragging Max's hand very slowly back and forth.  
  
   
  
"I thought about you," Yoann sighs. "I thought about y- your hands, holding me down, and, mmm, - m-my last night at home, when you did that thing, and I couldn't walk straight..."  
  
   
  
"What thing? Tell me."   
  
   
  
He isn't this shy. Never has been. But he likes it when Max draws everything out of him like this, so slowly, that he pretends willingly and happily, because he needs this. Especially now; he happily bends himself to Max's will, because he needs him. He needs to be covered with  _his_  marks again, temporary tattoos that tell him just how much he's loved, how much Max needs him too. How bad he's been.  
  
   
  
"When you - when you made me sit on top of you while you fucked me so you could watch, and you, you made me do this - "  
  
"-- Do what, Yo? Tell me properly, or I'll get it out of you some other way that's a lot less fun."  
  
"You, you made me..." He's breathless already, his hips writhing in the tangle of sheets and limbs and sweat and skin. "You made me touch myself, and you made me come on, onto your belly and clean it off you w-with my mouth, and I couldn't... couldn't walk properly, my legs were shaking so much. Oh god Max, please don't stop..."   
  
   
  
Max grins. "That's better," he murmurs, sliding his hand up Yoann's belly towards his chest, laughing to himself as he hears Yoann's sigh of displeasure. "Anything else? Any _one e_ lse?"   
  
   
  
"No," Yoann croaks. "No one else. Only you. You were all I, I... I came so quickly I didn't have a chance to think about anything else."   
  
   
  
"Oh, come on," he growls, dragging his fingertips very slowly up and over Yoann's cock, listening to his ragged, shallow breathing with a jolt of delight. "Don't tell me it was only once? I don't believe you. How many times? How many nights did you lie here thinking about me? How many?"  
  
   
  
Yoann swallows; Max can hear the breath stick in his throat. "Every... It was every night, Max. I couldn't help it. I wanted you. I missed you so much. Please..."   
  
   
  
Max has always loved it when he talks like this.   
  
   
  
"Please what?" he growls, trying to force the smile from his face.  
  
   
  
" _Please_ , Max, don't stop. I need you, I missed you, please. Please touch me again."   
  
   
  
"Do you have any idea what it does to me when you say that? You are something else, Yo."   
  
   
  
"I'm  _your_ something else," Yoann hisses through gritted teeth, because if he relaxes then he will make more than enough noises to wake the people sleeping on either side of them, and Max does not want to face the stares in the morning. He doesn't care, never has; he owns every single one of his howls, screams, bruises, scars, however temporary, and he doesn't care who stares or asks questions. It's who he is, what he likes, what he craves. But Max is shyer; he doesn't like everyone knowing just what they get up to in the middle of the night when everyone is sleeping, or meant to be, and Yoann wouldn't put him through that for any price. Even if it takes all the strength he possesses not to scream Max's name.  
  
   
  
"Yes, you are. And you always will be, won't you..." Max can't help but smile, nuzzling him for a brief second, before allowing his fingers to resume their torturously slow path over his skin; up and down his thigh, where he squeaks if you get the right spot, tracing the sharp curve of his hip bones, the ridges of his stomach, anywhere and everywhere he can reach.   
  
   
  
"Always," he breathes, arching his back into Max's touch.   
  
   
  
"And yet you still just can't stop yourself... How did it feel, with the others?" Max's hand stills over his belly, fingertips barely touching his skin. Every time he touches him Yoann feels a jolt of electricity run through him, especially when he talks like this. Sometimes he finds himself acting up; flirting with other people so that Max will feel possessive and put him in his place. It's almost a game they play.  
  
“With Vincent. How did you feel knowing you belong to me and you were playing at being someone else's? Did it feel good, Yo? Did it feel better than being on your own?"   
  
   
  
" _Max_..." Yoann growls.   
  
   
  
"No," Max mumbles, worrying that he's gone too far. Tonight wasn't supposed to be about this. "Sorry, I shouldn't... Are you okay?"  
  
"Green," he nods, squeezing Max's hand tight. Nothing much phases Yoann; Max has known that for a long time. But still he worries. He doesn't ever want to be too harsh with him, but especially tonight. "Please," Yoann murmurs. "Please, don't stop."   
  
   
  
Max chuckles, climbing over him to press his lips to his stomach, eyes flashing. "You never change, do you? You're so very bad, you are, Yo. Suppose both of us were here now? You'd love that, wouldn't you? Two of us to dole out your punishments. Two of us to make you scream, here, in the dark. Look at you, look at that flush in your cheeks. You'd like that, I know you would. You've been very bad, haven't you, Yo. Say it. Say. It."  
  
   
  
Yoann can barely look him in the eye. But he does, the two of them nose to nose in the dark, lips almost touching, fear in his suddenly wide eyes. "I'm sorry, Maxi..."  
  
   
  
"Don't be sorry. Say it."  
  
   
  
"I've been ...very...bad," he chokes out.  
  
   
  
Max props himself up on his elbows, touching a hand to Yoann's mop of curls. “This is what you want, isn't it?”  
  
   
  
“Yes!” he hisses, moulding himself up against Max's body, burying a hand in his thick hair. “I mean, yes. Please. It is.”  
  
   
  
Max smiles, nipping at Yoann's neck. “You know why I have to ask, Yo...”  
  
   
  
"Yeah, I  _know_. But please... I need you."  
  
   
  
"Oh you  _need_  me now, do you? Like you needed me when I wasn't here? Or worse? You've been very bad Yo. I should punish you - "  
  
   
  
" - Oh Max,  _please_  - "  
   
  
" - But I won't. I missed you too much. I've been thinking about doing this since you left..."  
  
   
  
He pushes himself upright, resting his hands lightly on Yoann's chest. Yoann's eyes bore into him in the dark, hopeful and wary at the same time.  
  
   
  
“Look at you,” he sighs. “I could write poetry about the curve of those muscles. How soft your skin feels now the hair's gone, the perfectly circular bruises my hips leave on your thighs, how beautiful you look on your knees with my cock in your mouth. The way your back arches when I do this..." He drags his fingers down over Yoann's stomach, as if to prove his point; Yoann obligingly arches into his touch, squirming under his weight.  
  
"One day I will. But not today. Today I have something better for you."  
  
   
  
Slowly, he inches forward before Yoann can even choke out a breathless, "Better?", his legs sitting either side of Yoann's shoulders, pinning him down against the rough sheets. He begins stroking his cock with one hand, grabbing a fistful of Yoann's hair with the other, angling him just where he wants him.  
  
   
  
"Oh, I missed this," he gasps. "I missed coming over that pretty face. Tell me you want it."  
  
  
A sly smile creeps over Yoann's face. “Do you even need to ask?"  
  
  
"Tell me,” Max insists, pulling tight on his hair. “Tell me you want it. Look at me and tell me this is what you want. Look at me."

  
"I..." he chokes out. "Yes. I want it." 

  
"Hmm," Max growls, his hand stilling for a moment. "I don't think that's enough for me tonight. I think you need to beg me. Go on. Beg me for it."   
  
"Max,  _please..._ "

Max can't help but smile; he's waited weeks for this. Nor can he help his hand, which is somehow stroking his cock again without him telling it to. He's not going to last very long, he can tell - but after so long apart, he deserves this. They both do.

"Please, Maxi. This is what I want. I want you. I need you.  _Please._ "

Watching Max's face as his eyes close in pleasure and he bites down on his lip to choke back his smile is just too much, and while it takes all Yoann's strength not to make a sound, his hands are less easy to master. One begins to snake down his belly, but Max growls low in his throat.

"Don't you  _dare_ ," he hisses. "What are you like? You keep your hands where I can see them."

 

"I'm very bad, Max..." Yoann grins, and places his hands at the most sensitive part of Max's inner thigh.    
  
Max sighs, his breath shaky and rapid now, his erratic rhythm finding pace, his face contorted in the dark. He's close, and Yoann knows it, his fingers moving in slow, small circles on Max's thighs until his hips buck reflexively. He yelps quietly as Max's grip on his hair tightens even further, but it's the kind of pain he likes. He missed it.

"You..." Max chokes out, his voice thin and fragile. "You, are perfect. And you are all  _mine_ ," and that last word throws him over the edge and he comes, hot and hard, over Yoann's face, marking him as his again. He relaxes his grip on Yoann's hair, staring down at his face in the moonlight, ghosting a clean hand over his forehead, his ragged breath slowly returning to normal, his shaking legs slowly calming.

"Oh, you look so pretty like that. I swear, Yo...” he breaks off and laughs softly to himself. “You make me want to take more pictures of you. You never look so beautiful as you do like that."

Yoann smiles, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.   
"Missed you."

Max takes Yoann's chin in his hand, tilting it up for a moment to enjoy one final, lingering look. "Here," he whispers. "Let me clean you up. I'm not done with you yet."  
  
   
"Sounds like a promise," Yoann sighs, his face as still as possible. Max remembers the first time they ever did this, and the sore eye Yoann had carried all the way back to Bayonne. The thought of it still makes him smile.  
  
  
With gentle, careful hands, he smooths the hair back from Yoann's face and cleans very carefully, very slowly, until there's no longer a single trace of what happened, save for Yoann's smile and the glint in his eye. Max sighs, but he can't stop himself from kissing him, a thrill running through him even now at the low growl which catches in Yoann's throat.  
  
"Mmm," he sighs. "I missed you too, Yo... In fact, there's only one thing I missed more than kissing you..." He begins weaving a slow, lingering path over Yoann's body, lips, fingers, teeth, each leaving their mark on him. He lingers for a long time on those hips; his favourite part of Yoann. Second only to his smile. And the way he wraps himself around Max after nights like these.

"Oh yes?" Yoann gasps, still finding enough air to be cheeky. Max would have to punish him for that. Another night. Not tonight. "And what was that, mon amour?"

Max smiles to himself. "This," he murmurs, a second before taking Yoann's cock into his mouth. He watches, as Yoann lets out a long, shuddering, "Oh," and clamps a hand over his mouth.

"Chut, Yo. It's all right," Max whispers, resting a hand low over Yoann's belly to calm him.

"Don't stop, Max - ohhh fuck, yes,  _please_ \- please don't stop. Oh fuck, I missed you, I missed you so much Maxi..."

"If you make one more sound, I'll stop for good," Max threatens, and Yoann makes a terrified mewl before clamping his lips shut tight and covering his mouth with one big hand.

Max knows every single trick and has done since they were seventeen, but tonight he's in no mood to make him suffer. His movements are quick, hard, and Yoann's muffled cries are all the encouragement he needs to keep going until Yoann's hips are thrusting up at him and he hears him growl and moan and scream from behind his hand and his mouth fills with wet heat. He swallows, his mouth still around Yoann, listening to Yoann's contented sighs and enjoying the feeling of one of his clumsy hands in his hair.

He lets him go, planting a row of kisses along his thigh, and has barely moved before Yoann grabs him and kisses him, hard, pulling him tight to his chest. His insides fill with a particular kind of flushing heat. He missed being wanted like this.

 

  
"What was that for?" Yoann sighs, his voice full of wonder.  
   
  
Max smiles, stroking his curls with one hand. "I missed you. Seeing that pretty face of yours again... I don't think you know what you do to me. I can't help it, I just want to be nice to you, all the time."   
  
"But I'm very bad, Maxi..." Yoann giggles.

"I know, you are. So as much as it breaks my heart, I can't always be nice to you, because you need to be told, don't you? You cheeky little..." He breaks off as Yoann grins sleepily. 

  
"But I love you. I missed you so much, Yo. Honestly."   
  
"Missed you too, Maxi. My face was really dry without my usual moisturiser." The two of them can't help but burst into helpless, childish giggles at that, holding tight to one another in the dark, faces pressed into each others' shoulders. Someone bangs on the wall from the room behind them, a fierce thump puncturing their breathless laughter.  
   
“I bet you any money that's Florian.”  
  
“Yo, shut up, before he comes in...” Max splutters against his skin. “We should sleep. I should go back to my bed," he concludes sadly.  
  
  
“Don't,” Yoann sighs, clutching Max's face in his hands. “Stay with me. Please. I missed you. Stay with me tonight."   
  
"You've twisted my arm," Max grumbles, but his smile is so wide his face is beginning to hurt. He lets Yoann arrange himself around him, his head burrowed into Max's chest, one arm looped tightly around his back. Their legs fit together anyhow, and Max sighs, pressing his lips to Yoann's nest of wild hair.  
  
  
"Mmm... Love you, Maxi." He's half asleep already.  
  
  
"Shhh, Yoyo," Max hushes. "Sleep now. Before we get into trouble...” 

"I don't mind as long as it's trouble with you," is the last thing Yoann mumbles before he's out like a light.

 


End file.
